


Lights of Home

by Tarlan



Category: Primeval, The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:17:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9183361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: Alive but injured, Tom searches for home and finds it in a most unlikely place in the past.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fififolle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fififolle/gifts).



He wasn't supposed to be alive, clawing his way through the soft earth of his shallow grave and using all his control to muffle the screams of pain that threatened to bellow from him. Ryan glanced around the clearing, seeing the scattered remains of the camp, realizing they must have thought he was dead or they would never have left him behind. He couldn't find it in his heart to blame them because he was covered in blood and had serious wounds, life-threatening wounds, and could only be surprised nothing had come along to feed on him while he lay deeply unconscious. Plus he was a soldier with a sworn duty to protect Cutter and the others, and if that meant being buried half-alive in the belief he was dead so they would return safely to the future then so be it.

If he made it back to the anomaly and it was still there, then he would fall through and let them deal with the guilt without any bitterness or resentment from him.

It took time to crawl to the nearest discarded backpack but he found what he needed inside, cleaning, stitching, and slapping pressure bandages over the worst of his injuries. He also found several abandoned bottles of water, shaking his head. The kid, Connor, had mentioned it could take up to a 1000 years for one of these to decompose. Luckily they had at least 250 million years to spare; he was grateful they had left them behind because he desperately needed to replace lost fluids. He drank one whole bottle straight down but left the others untouched, not knowing how long he'd have to stay here before he was strong enough to move.

Ryan gave himself two days to heal before gathering up anything he could carry.

Before he left the abandoned camp site he looked back, recalling how the team would arrive in another few years for the first time and wonder who had been here and what had happened. They'd find a body buried just... He looked towards his empty grave and realised it wasn't in the same place as the one he now recalled from that first journey back in time. Another of his men lay in that particular grave so maybe he was never meant to die here.

The original walk from the anomaly had taken just a couple of hours but Ryan had to take it at less than half that speed. He'd left as soon as the sun set to avoid the heat and glaring sun, aware it could take him all night, but he had found night goggles in one of the backpacks. Hopefully he'd be able to avoid any predators that hunted at night.

A few hours before dawn he was slowly making his way up the final incline even though he knew there was no anomaly waiting for him. Still it was better to get to slightly higher ground before morning, and then look for some place to hole up while he made a decision on what to do next. He didn't have an anomaly detector of any kind so walking off in the hope of stumbling across an anomaly was out of the question, but he did recall Temple and the others discussing how the anomalies jumped along ley lines - lines of magnetic force - which gave him an idea. The following night he took out his compass, noting the slight wobble on the needle and started walking in that direction.

It shouldn't have worked but days later he could see the shard layer reflecting brightly ahead of him, and he hobbled towards it as fast as he was able. The problem was he had no idea where this one led.

"Could lead straight into a volcano," he murmured aloud, but he couldn't smell anything sulfurous bleeding through from the other side.

If anything the air smelled sweet, like flowers, so he took the risk and stepped through into a field of wildflowers on the edge of a wood. 

He walked through dappled woods for most of a day before he smelled something that could only come from some form of civilization - the aroma of meat cooking on an open fire. Hungry, having eaten the last of the rations he had scrounged from the discarded backpacks, he moved as stealthily as he could towards the campsite. Stopping when his soldier's sixth sense kicked into high gear. He felt the tip of something sharp press between his shoulder blades.

The man spoke and Ryan recognized an order when he heard it even if he couldn't understand a single word. He turned slowly, hoping this was the right response and came face-to-face with a smaller, wiry-framed man wearing clothes made from tanned hide. It reminded him of the history classes he'd enjoyed as a kid, of Ancient Britons.

".... Romani?"

Ryan's almost reddish-blond hair and pale blue eyes had come from his Scottish heritage making his physical appearance more Briton than the olive-skinned Romans, though the Romans had happily opened the army ranks to anyone who was not a slave, and that included people from conquered lands.

The Briton's words reminded Ryan of the Gaelic he'd heard in songs from groups like Runrig, soothing melodies that Cutter would play in his office when he was trying to think, but unless the anomaly had jumped hundreds of miles further north, then the man couldn't be from the only northern tribe Ryan could recall, the Brigantes. He tried the word anyway.

"Brigantes?"

More undecipherable words followed along with a nudge towards the campsite. He noticed immediately that it was only a small fire for one or maybe two people to warm themselves and deciding to look nonthreatening, Ryan sank down beside the fire. The aroma of cooked meat made his stomach rumble and the other man laughed, pulling a leg off the rabbit and throwing it to Ryan. He grabbed it up and took a bite. After days of dry rations it was heavenly.

"Thank you," he murmured, nodding his head in the hope that would convey his gratitude.

"Ryan," he stated, pointing to himself and looking quizzically at the other man.

"Esca."

"Esca," Ryan repeated and gave a half smile.

In the months that followed they became more than comrades, more than brothers, sharing body heat for warmth and pleasure during the cold nights as they headed north, and hunting together when they set up camp each evening once Ryan was strong enough. The words started to make sense as Esca recounted a tale of searching for a golden bird beyond the wall where the wild people lived. A year past, and then another until the world Ryan knew became a fading memory. Then one day a boy came running into the village talking of strange lights in the woods. 

The anomaly sparkled, cold and clear in the darkness.

"Ryan? You have seen this before?" Esca placed a hand on his arm to gain his full attention. "Are these the lights you talked of many seasons ago? That brought you here."

Ryan nodded.

"Then you will leave?"

Ryan thought about it for a moment, knowing this anomaly could lead to any time - past, present, or future. His duty as a soldier pulled at him but so did the reality of the life he had built with the Brigantes, and with Esca.

"No. This is my home now." He turned and grasped Esca's forearms, reaffirming his vow made last summer in a special ceremony. "You are my home now."

With Esca by his side he turned away from the anomaly and headed back towards the fire lights of home.

END  
 


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